


Pining

by plantbaby



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6913306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantbaby/pseuds/plantbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is pining.  It’s ridiculous, because Isabelle Lightwood simply does not pine – she goes after what she wants. Still, here she is - casting longing looks at Lydia, trying to work up the courage to do something about her feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pining

Isabelle watches as Lydia fights off another demon, her moves quick and sure, the slide and draw of her blade smooth and practiced as she sends it back to its own dimension. Izzy rakes her eyes over the other woman’s body appreciatively; she admires the way her gear hugs it close, but allows her to stay light on her feet, not restraining her movements.

Lydia grins at her from across the room and Isabelle’s heart skips a beat when she catches Lydia’s dimpled smile.  She turns around to check the rest of their perimeter and Izzy follows her with her eyes.  She is pining.  It’s ridiculous, because Isabelle Lightwood simply _does not_ pine – she goes after what she wants. Still, here she is - casting longing looks at Lydia, trying to work up the courage to do something about her feelings.

Out of a corner of her eye, Isabelle sees something creeping towards Lydia and she uncoils her whip, ready to pounce. She lashes out, catching the demon by surprise, but she is a split second too late and the creature’s claws sink into the flesh of Lydia’s arm. Lydia cries out, the impact sending her to the floor and Isabelle rushes to her side. She draws her dagger and stabs the demon in its side almost absentmindedly, checking on Lydia her only priority. Her heart is pounding as she kneels down next to the other woman and pushes her jacket back, so she can see the damage. Lydia sucks in a pained breath as she is jostled around and Isabelle’s brows furrow in concern as she takes in three long gashes running along the length of her arm.

‘Give me some space,’ Lydia grunts out, her teeth clenched against the pain. She struggles to her feet and Isabelle puts a hand on her uninjured shoulder, steadying her.  Lydia props herself against the wall and pats her pockets down. She stiffens. ‘I think I lost my stele. Could you...?’

Isabelle nods and pulls out her own stele. She grasps Lydia’s wrist delicately and starts drawing an iratze with swift, precise strokes. Despite feeling jittery and shaken up, her hands are steady.

‘Don’t do that again,’ Isabelle murmurs softly.

‘Don’t do what?’ Lydia asks, a confused frown on her face. Izzy freezes; Lydia wasn’t supposed to hear that. Still, Isabelle Lightwood is not one to back off, never too scared to speak her mind – even if her stomach feels like it’s somersaulting. 

‘Don’t get injured like that,’ Isabelle says and peers up to see a gentle smile sliding on Lydia’s face. She reaches out and tucks a stray strand of black hair behind Izzy’s ear.

‘That’s my job, Isabelle,’ she answers simply.

Isabelle knows that. She knows that it’s their job – to kill the uglies, to protect the mundanes, to fight their whole lives and die eventually in battle – but she doesn’t want that for Lydia. She reminds her of Alec – so headstrong, so dutiful, but deep down so _fragile._

‘Well, from now on, your job is to not get hurt then,’ she says, trying to sound teasing, but she must fail to keep her tone light, because Lydia’s gaze never wavers, her blue eyes soft, but intent on Isabelle’s, her expression open.

‘I promise to fulfill my new duties to the best of my abilities,’ she whispers, her voice quiet and private, for Isabelle’s ears only.

And Isabelle is done waiting. She presses her body against Lydia’s, their mouths meeting in a kiss, natural and slow, without a hint of anxiety or insecurity - as if they did it every day. Izzy sighs softly as Lydia reaches down, her hands gripping her hips, steadying them against the wall.

‘Took you long enough,’ she says against Isabelle’s lips, her breath tickling her, pleasurable shivers trailing down her spine.

‘You knew?’ Isabelle asks as her hands lift up to untangle Lydia’s intricate braid.

‘I was hopeful,’ Lydia admits. ‘I thought it might be wishful thinking.’

Isabelle opens her eyes to find her gazing at her fondly, her lips red and curved in a playful smile. The hair that she lets down, tumble down in soft waves, framing her face; she looks like a mess, Isabelle’s mess. And Izzy had never wanted anyone more before. She fits her body back against Lydia’s, her blonde hair caressing Izzy’s face in an imitation of a lover’s fingers, and she presses another kiss into her mouth. Lydia’s own fingers grasp desperately on Isabelle’s shoulders, surprised by the other woman’s fervor.

Isabelle licks into her mouth, fastening her teeth on the cushion of Lydia’s bottom lip after a while. Lydia’s palm travels up to cup Izzy’s cheek, her calloused thumb tracing the shape of Isabelle’s cheekbone and she groans, the sound muffled against the other woman’s skin. Lydia shifts them, taking the opportunity to rain soft kisses against Isabelle’s cheeks, chin, neck, down to the hollow of her throat. Izzy whispers her name, more of a whimper than a coherent word, and that does it – the mood changes, shifting from tender to something heavier, the atmosphere loaded with tension and need.

Isabelle fits one of her legs in-between Lydia’s and she sucks at her neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive spot behind her ear and Lydia keens, breath erratic. She reacts instinctively, hooking one of her legs against Izzy’s hip, wanting to get closer.  She feels oversensitive, like her skin is wired up with electricity  – and they didn’t even really do anything yet.  

She reaches up and tangles her fingers in Izzy’s dark locks. She bucks her hips against Isabelle’s and she tips her head, Izzy tracing her tongue against her lips, asking for entrance; she opens up quickly  and Isabelle laughs into the kiss.

‘Someone is eager,’ she murmurs and Lydia flushes. Izzy shakes her head. ‘I like it.’

Isabelle looks into Lydia’s eyes, the blue is swallowed up by the pupil, her desire clear. She gently slides her fingers down her cleavage,  the pads tracing the soft skin.

‘May I?’ Izzy asks as she grasps the bottom of Lydia’s tank top; she smiles, her dark eyes wide.

Lydia nods and Izzy hitches up the dark fabric revealing her flat stomach. She sneaks her hands under the top and cups the swell of Lydia’s breast. She rubs her thumb against the steadily hardening nub, carefully, a barely there touch, testing the waters; Lydia lets out a heavy exhale and Izzy licks her lips. She withdraws her hands and pulls down the neckline of the top down, stretching the fabric and revealing Lydia’s baby blue bra. She yearns to take it all off.  She longs to appreciate Lydia’s gorgeous body, but she knows that they are in public - even glamoured she wants to make sure that she is able to cover Lydia quickly  if someone comes their way, so she settles on simply tugging the material down, leaving the bra on.              

She ducks her head and presses a soft kiss in-between Lydia’s breasts. She feels Lydia’s fingers sneaking into her hair again as Isabelle focuses her attention on the soft skin. As her mouth inches closer to the nipple, the fingers keep tightening in her dark locks, finally clenching as Izzy’s mouth reaches her destination. Lydia moans, a quiet,  private sound, as Izzy kisses the nipple tenderly, petting it with the flat of her tongue, and then timidly sucking it into her mouth, her teeth grazing the nub. Lydia hugs Izzy closer to her chest, her hips twitching as her body sends her mixed signals, not knowing if she wants to get closer to Isabelle’s wet mouth or escape the stimulation. Isabelle’s hands travel down, exploring the planes’ of Lydia’s body; she lifts her head as she reaches the zipper of Lydia’s pants. She raises her eyebrow, questioning Lydia, seeking her consent.

‘Yeah, please,’ Lydia answers softly, her lips parted, her breath coming in quick pants.

Her eyes are hooded as she reaches for Izzy, tugging her closer by the elbows and pressing a kiss into her mouth, her tongue dipping inside and running along the back of her teeth and the roof of Izzy’s mouth. Isabelle’s palm slips into Lydia’s now open pants, her fingers rubbing against the red line on her skin left by the tight clothing. She glances down and giggles – of course, Lydia is wearing sensible boxers.

She tugs the leather down, exposing the pale skin of Lydia’s thighs. She can’t help but caress the usually hidden flesh. There are a few runes and scars littering the area, but the skin is soft and clearly tender. As Izzy’s fingertips run along the rim of the boxers, Lydia lets out a moan, the sound muffled by the way she bites down on her lip, her breath stuttering. Izzy reaches up and runs her thumb along Lydia’s bottom lip, easing the flesh from in-between her teeth.  She follows her finger with her mouth and then noses behind her ear, kissing along the column of Lydia’s neck as she slips her hand into her boxers. The pads of her fingers part her folds and Izzy muffles a groan against her collarbones as she discovers how moist Lydia is, the tangible effect  that Izzy has on her. It’s  electrifying, heady.

Izzy’s fingers back up a little, slipping against her clit and then circling  gently, carefully, trying to judge what the other woman likes. Lydia’s head hits the wall behind her and she whimpers softly as Izzy’s fingers slip accidentally, gently slapping the sensitive nub, her hips arching away from the touch and then coming back. She glares at Isabelle and Izzy grins, delighted at the reaction.

She moves her fingers down, circling them around Lydia’s entrance; she feels Lydia’s ass coming off the wall, her core pressing into her palm. Lydia’s arms slip around Izzy’s neck, the taller woman burying her head in Isabelle’s shoulder.

‘By the Angel, Izzy,’ she mumbles as Isabelle presses inside.

She pumps her finger in and out a few times, dragging them slowly along her inner walls, letting her adjust. She adds another finger when she feels the hand gripping the back of her shirt relax. She pushes her fingers deep inside Lydia and curves them forward, towards herself in a come-hither motion, Lydia releasing a sharp gasp.

‘I got you,’ Isabelle whispers into her ear, pressing a kiss against her racing pulse point and then she lets herself go.

At first, she pushes in and out of Lydia’s body in short, quick movements. But then she settles on crooking and uncrooking her fingers as she tries to stimulate her g-spot, the heel of her palm catching Lydia’s clit with every thrust, overstimulating her, Lydia letting out little, incoherent noises against Izzy’s neck.

‘Isabelle, please,’ Lydia whimpers out, her nails digging into Izzy’s back through the fabric of her shirt.

Lydia’s hips keep twitching as if she isn’t sure what she wants to do, undecided whether she wants to get closer or push Isabelle away. Izzy complies with her request; she pushes deep into her, curling her fingers again, rubbing her soft spot. She shifts her thumb and focuses on Lydia’s clit alongside the little, aborted thrusts of her fingers and Lydia falls apart. 

She tightens around Izzy, muffling the shout of her climax into her neck, biting into the soft skin, leaving an angry-red mark behind. Isabelle slows down, sliding her fingers in and out of Lydia’s body, letting her ride it out. Her walls convulse around her fingers as she slowly relaxes , her breathing still rapid, but not hitching anymore.

 Lydia tips her head back, resting it against the wall. She licks her lips and then slowly inches her eyes open, a slow smile appearing on her face. Izzy grins at her dopey expression and withdraws her hands from her body, zipping her up and wiping down her fingers, resisting the urge to taste Lydia.

‘So,’ she starts, suddenly a little bit unsure.

‘So,’ Lydia repeats after her, a playful glint in her eyes. She sobers up quickly though and rights herself up, standing tall. ‘ Think we should join the party before Alec checks on us?’ She suggests and Izzy’s heart sinks. She sure seems eager to get out of there.  However, as if Lydia was reading her mind, she reaches up and tucks a stray lock of Izzy’s hair behind her ear and smiles gently. ‘The sooner we get done here, the sooner we can continue this,’ she explains and ducks her head, her lips moving against Isabelle’s ear. ‘And I think you would look really good against those grey sheets on my bed.’

Lydia chuckles as she withdraws from Izzy’s space and rights their clothes. She grasps Izzy’s wrist and Isabelle smiles as she is led out of the room, happy to follow her, happy that she is not pining anymore, happy that this feeling is _mutual._


End file.
